


A Night Off

by Anonymous



Series: Alone in the Dark [3]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6648139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Katherine go to dinner at the Jacobs' house. Dave has wonderful parents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jack walked passed the woman with the large hat who was arguing with the receptionist. Something about the woman's peach preserves.

The Sun newsroom was a busy place. It was a large open room with desks for the reports. At the other end was a small office with large windows that gave the editor in chief a good view of the newsroom. Katherine was in there, talking heatedly with her boss about something. So Jack sat at her desk to wait for her.

It was ridiculous that the man still hadn't given Katherine a regular beat. Jack looked at the mess of papers and books on her desk. What did they have her working on? She'd been oddly tight lipped about it. 

Jack shifted slightly. The chair was uncomfortable, and he was sore. Maybe he'd better stand, but that would look awkward. He picked up one of the books: Studien über Hysterie. He didn't speak German, so he put it back. 

The next book was something called Economy in the Home. That sounded dull. 

Modern Etiquette was the next title to catch his eye. Jack picked it up and thumbed through it. Lots of stuff on who sits where at a wedding, he thought. How to address people in letters, a little more practical. Katherine had bookmarked a page on how to introduce a married woman doctor at social gatherings. Boring stuff. Who needed a book on this anyway? 

The chapter on dating and courtship held his interest a little more. It was mostly stuff about holding doors open, being on time, and appropriate gifts. There was a section on rejecting unsuitable suitors. Then the author discussed acceptable behavior for young ladies:

"Even when one subscribes to the modern notions of women's education and suffrage, some form chaperone is essential for unmarried women. Even the most respectable of young men will be tempted to take advantage if left alone in the company of a girl. Even the most pious of girls may be tempted to give in with no parent or responsible friend to intervene."

What if the boy doesn't want to "take advantage"? Or can't? Jack flipped through a few more pages. Nothing on his problems with Katherine. There was definitely something wrong with him. 

"Jack?" Katherine called softly from behind him. 

He jumped slightly, his rear end connected with the chair, sending a white hot flash of pain through him. He bit his lip to keep from crying out. 

"Jack," Katherine said more gently. She had come around in front of him. "Are you alright? Tell me what's wrong." 

"It's nothing," Jack said. She gave him a look that he couldn't quite read. Sorrow or disappointment maybe. She pities you, he thought, that's the only reason she's still. . .

"Then we'd better get going," Katherine said. 

"Right," Jack said. She pretended not to notice that he winced as he stood. She pulled open a drawer on the bottom of her desk. Inside, instead of files or papers, was a small basket of apples. 

Jacks curiosity must have shown, because she said, "it's a long story." She picked up the apples and her handbag, and they set off. Katherine handed him the basket, when he offered to carry it. 

The woman was still haranguing the receptionist about the jar of preserves. 

"Just see to it that Aunt Dottie, gets them," the woman was saying. "She saved my marriage." 

Katherine rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

"You know, when I dropped off my cartoons today, your father offered me a quarter to spy on the Sun and find out who that old broad is?" Jack said. 

"Really?" Katherine said. 

"Then he up the offer to fifty cents, if I can get her home address," Jack said

"That's generous," she said. "You gonna cut me in on that?"

"Nah. I told him that was creepy and if he wanted to ask her out on a date he should do it himself," Jack said with a smile. "Then he had me thrown out of his office." 

Sure you can laugh about it now, he thought. At the time you was terrified. When Pulitzer went all serious and asked you to close the door, what did think? That he had Synder hiding in there waiting for you?

Jack swayed slightly, feeling a little dizzy.

"Are you alright?" Katherine asked. 

He managed to right himself. What was wrong with him? Maybe he should write to Aunt Dottie


	2. Chapter 2

It was clear by the time that they arrived at the Jacobs's apartment that Jack was not alright. Not the kind of not alright, that he had been for the past few weeks, Katherine concluded. There was something physically wrong. He was pale, and, she suspected, slightly feverish. She didn't dare try to touch him, to confirm that. 

Jack winced slightly and they climbed the stairs. 

"Did you get in a fight today?" She asked. 

"What? No." Jack said. 

"If you're hurt we can do this another time," Katherine said. And get you to a doctor she added mentally. She had try to convince Crutchie that Jack needed to be examined by a physician. Crutchie had opposed the idea, saying that he didn't trust doctors, and that Jack wasn't physically sick. She had given up, because she suspected that Jack would be even more stubborn about it than Crutchie. 

Jack knocked on the door, and they were enthusiastically greeted by the Jacobs family. 

Jack introduced Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs and Sarah. Katherine wondered if Sarah was older than David. Les ran up and hugged her. 

Katherine gave Mrs. Jacobs the basket of apples. 

"Oh you shouldn't have dear," Mrs. Jacobs said. 

"Don't think anything of it. They're from a woman at the Sun," Katherine said. She felt a little bit guilty about giving them food she hadn't paid for. "She was pretty insistent that I take them, even though there's no way I could use them all, and then I got your invitation. . . Now I'm rambling." She managed to stop herself. 

"Supper's not quite ready yet," Mrs. Jacobs said. "Why don't you sit down and tell us about your day? Jack dear, are you feeling alright?" That look of discomfort passed over Jack's face again as he sat down next to David at the table.

"I'm just a little tired," Jack said. 

"He's been like this all day," Les said. 

"I didn't get much sleep last night," Jack said. "Crutchie had a bad night last night."

Liar, Katherine though. If Crutchie had a bad night Jack was the one who gave it to him. Katherine wasn't the only who doubted Jack's story.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're improving the truth?" David said. 

Jack grinned.

"So what's it like writing for a newspaper?" Mr. Jacobs asked. "It must be very exciting." 

"Yeah what have you been doing there?" Jack asked.

"Well," Katherine said, "tomorrow I'm supposed to go down to the boardinghouse and interview Mr. Klopman and some of the newsies."

"Why?" Ask Les.

"Does it have to do with the strike?" David asked. 

"No, not directly," Katherine said. "Some rich couple from Connecticut's making a donation." 

"Who are they?" Mr. Jacobs asked. 

"I don't know, the name's Van something or other," Katherine said. 

"Mayer's old boss, Mr. Jones, moved to Connecticut," Mrs. Jacobs said. 

The conversation turned Mr. Jacobs's new job, David, Les, and Sarah going back to school, why school was important, and Sarah's job. 

"So I showed the owner how if we cut the pattern a little differently there'd be enough cloth left for a quarter sized dress," Sarah said. 

"That's dumb," Les said, "who'd want a dress that's too small to wear?"

"So it be a dress for an infant?" Katherine asked. 

"I was thinking more of a dress for a doll," Sarah said, "so little girls can dress their dolls in matching outfits."

"I think supper should be ready," Mrs. Jacobs said, rising from her seat. "Sarah, why don't you come and. . . Jack?" 

Jack had slumped down in his chair. Katherine's earlier misgivings returned full force. She shook his shoulder, and he muttered something incoherent. 

Mrs. Jacobs pressed a hand to his forehead. "He's burning up," she said. 

Katherine froze in panic, uncertain of what to do. 

"Mayer, David, help him into the bedroom," Mrs. Jacobs ordered. They complied over Jack's weak protests. 

"Sarah, go and fetch a doctor," she said. Sarah was out of the apartment almost before her mother finished speaking.

"Katherine," Mrs. Jacobs said, her voice taking on a stern tone that snapped her out of her shock, "get me damp towels, Les will show you where they are." Les led her to a small wash room, and pointed to the shelf where the towels were stored. She almost dropped them when she heard a pained cry from Jack. 

A heart pounding moment later Katherine found herself in the bedroom. Jack was trying to stand up and move away from the Jacobs. David seemed stunned as he backed away from the door. 

"Where are you hurt, child?" Mrs. Jacobs asked gently. 

"All we did was set him on the bed," David said. 

"David, go get the chicken out of the oven so it doesn't burn," Mr. Jacobs said. "Keep your brother out of here."

David quickly disappeared pulling a reluctant Les behind him. 

Katherine remained a few more minutes trying to help, until the doctor arrived. Then she excused herself to wait with David, Les, and Sarah. It was going to be a difficult night.


	3. Chapter 3

The doctor's bedside manor was not the best, Esther decided. 

Jack refused to cooperate when the doctor ordered him to undress. 

"No," he said shaking his head. 

"You need to do as the doctor says," Esther said. "He needs to see where you're hurt."

Jack shook his head. He tried to rise from the bed again, but collapsed on the mattress. His cheeks colored a little more, perhaps with embarrassment. 

"If you want," she said gently, "Mayer and I can wait outside." 

Jack gripped her hand and said, "don't go." He was trembling. 

"Drink this," the doctor said, pushing some foul smelling medicine to his lips, a pouring it in when Jack tried to protest. "It'll make things easier."

The drug didn't take long start working. Jack's eyes started to droop, and his efforts to pull away became uncoordinated. Esther did not really like the idea of drugging frightened children, but became more compliant. She eased his shirt off. To her eye there were no obvious signs of injury. 

"On his front," commanded the doctor. With Mayer's help, she arranged Jack on his stomach. She sat by his head carding her hands through his hair, hoping it was comforting gesture. 

"Get his pants," the doctor said. 

Even in his drugged state Jack tried to object. 

"Shh, sweetheart," She said. Mayer and the doctor got his pants down, exposing his buttocks and thighs. 

The boy had been whipped.

Mayer swore softly, and Esther pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. Jack flinched at the sound anyway. Esther ran her fingers though his hair again. 

Mayer gave her a look, that said 'I don't know what to do.' 

Esther knew from experience that that wasn't true. He had always been good at caring for the children, it came naturally to him. The only time he showed this kind of uncertainty was when it came to Esther herself. 

'Tell me how to take care of you,' was what he used to say when they were first married. Now he could say it without speaking a word. 

'Show me what to do for the boy,' he seemed to be saying. He was waiting to follow her lead. 

Esther took a deep breath. What should she do? Clearly Jack had not wanted anyone to see his injuries. He was shaking with fear or was that his fever? He closed his eyes. Was he trying avoid her, block out the pain? What could she say that would help? She decided that an honest assessment his injuries was the best option. 

"Sweetie," Esther said softly, "one the cuts on your back has pulled open. You probably couldn't reach it. You did a good job treating all the others. They're all healed, except the one. It's infected, but we know about it now, and the doctor's going to make it all better."

Without a word of warning, the doctor put his hands on Jack. 

His whole body tensed. 

"It's alright," Esther said, trying sooth Jack and glare at the doctor at the same time. "He's just examining you. He's going to be as gentle as he can."

Jack relaxed slightly, but every time the doctor poked or prodded him, his fists clenched a pillow.

"You're doing good," Esther said. "You're being very brave."

The doctor, finished with his examination, walked to the corner of the room next to the door, and motioned for Mayer to join him. 

She continued to focus on Jack while the men discussed his injuries, in blunt but hushed tones. 

"I know it hurts now," she said, "but it's going to get better. You'll see." 

She glanced at Mayer and knew that they were in agreement. They would take care of him. They would find out who had done this to him, and Jack wasn't going anywhere until they were sure that he was safe.


	4. Chapter 4

"Someone should tell Crutchie," David said at length. Katherine, Sarah, and David had retreated to the roof of the apartment building.

An uncomfortable silence had fallen over the three of them, interrupted occasionally by Les. He kept darting down to the apartment, then back up to the roof.

"Hum," Katherine said. "What time is?"

"After nine," Sarah said. 

"He might not be back at the lodging house yet," Katherine said. "I promised him that I'd keep Jack out until at least ten."

The statement made little since to David, and it must have shown on his face because she followed up a moment later.

"He may be out on a date or something," Katherine said. "Jack's been clinging to him a lot since the Refuge. I wanted . . . Crutchie needed. . . We sort of agreed that Jack and I would go out at least two nights a week so that Crutchie can have some time for himself."

Dave sighed. He wasn't all that surprised that Jack behaving like an overprotective big brother had started to wear on Crutchie. Since Crutchie's return, Jack had beaten up the Delancies at least three times on his behalf, carried his papers to his selling spot every day, and chased off anyone he deemed a threat. 

Crutchie had shaken most of this off with his usual smile. However, now David recalled that among, the bullies, overzealous missionaries, drunks, and assorted others Jack had chased away there had been several girls close to Crutchie's age. "Shameless hussies," Jack had called them at the time. Maybe Crutchie had seemed little disappointed. The image of one particularly cute freckle faced German maid drifted across David's mind. 

"I'll wait until the doctor's finished," David said, "then at least I might be able to tell him what's wrong with Jack."

"He's been solemnized," Les's voice piped up as he climbed back onto the roof. 

The combined certainty with which Les made the statement and the utter absurdity of it caught David off guard. 

"What?" David asked. 

"Solemnized," Les repeated confidently, "I heard the doctor say. . ."

It took David a few beats to comprehend the meaning of his words. Clearly Katherine knew what he meant, judging by the expression on her face. Slowly reality started to sink in for David as well. 

"Les Jacobs!" Sarah said, recovering before he did. "You had no business listening in on a private conversation." She seized him by his ear and escorted him to a corner of the roof for a private tongue lashing.

David moved to closer Katherine. Contrary to what some of the other newsies might think, David Jacobs was not completely naive. He knew what could happen between two men. He knew that some boys traded sex for money. He knew that some of the other newsies were sweat on each other. It had never occurred to him that either of these scenarios might apply Jack.

Katherine stood silently looking down at the street below. There was no look of revulsion on her face, or anger, or shock for that matter. 

"You knew?" David asked. 

"I suspected," she said. She swallowed, "I found out that Snyder. . ." She stopped clearly not wanting to finish the sentence. 

"That was almost two months ago," David said. It sounded harsher than he had meant. If Jack had been hurt in the Refuge, shouldn't he have healed by now? Wouldn't he have shown some sign before tonight?

On that thought a horrible feeling filled his stomach. Jack's brief tenure as a scab had made David angry. Only now that he thought about it, Jack had seemed off that morning. He had seemed stiff; he had winced slightly as he moved. Then there was his refusal to make eye contact with anyone, David had written it off as guilt over selling them out. Jack's desperation to get away made sickening sense. 

"You are not to repeat that to anyone!" Sarah's voice carried a little louder than she intended. 

"But why?" Les demanded. 

"I should have known," David said. He had said all those horrible things when he'd seen him dressed in that new suit. He had been too angry to see something that should have been obvious. 

"How?" Snapped Katherine. "How were we supposed to know? He never said anything. He tried to run away than talk about it. He's too stubborn to see a doctor. The only one who knew was Crutchie, and that's only because he was there." 

She was right. It wasn't Jack's fault though. Nobody talked about things like that. It just wasn't done. 

David sighed there would be plenty of time to reflect on the damage that taboo had caused later. Right now he had more important things to do. 

He walked over to Les. Sarah was still trying to persuade him that what he had heard should not be repeated. 

"Think of it this way," Sarah was saying, sounding exasperated, "would you want anyone knowing about the time you wet the bed?"

"No," Les said, sounding mortified. 

"It's a little like that," Sarah said. Sarah's heart may have been in the right place, but David didn't agree with her methods. Les deserved some honest answers. 

David put his hand on Les's shoulder and said, "come with me."

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"Lodging house," David said, "and you and I are going to have a long talk on the way."


	5. Chapter 5

Sarah and Katherine were cleaning up the kitchen when they heard the bedroom door open. Les and David had not returned from their mission, and it was nearly midnight. 

Mr. Jacobs entered and opened the cupboard. He retrieved a battered old coffee canister, that contained a stash of money. He fished out several bills.

"The doctor is finished," he said bluntly. 

Katherine retrieved her handbag, and followed him bag to the bedroom.

Jack was laying on the bed, in a borrowed nightshirt. He was still slightly flushed, his eyes were drooping, and he was clearly fighting the influence of some sedative. The doctor was giving instructions to Mrs. Jacobs. It was clear that the patient was expected to make a full recovery. 

Katherine tried to be subtle as she moved between Mr. Jacobs and the doctor. She knew that the Jacobs had limited means; she should be the one to pay for the house call. Besides, this was partially her fault anyway. If she had just listened to her initial instinct and insisted on dragging Jack to a doctor, things would not have gotten this bad. 

"Thank you, doctor," Katherine said. "Can you send the bill to this address?" She handed him a card. He eyed her critically.

"It's payment at the time of service," he said. "I charge five dollars for house calls." The price was outrageous. Still Katherine finished a five dollar bill out of her handbag, and the doctor took it.

"The stitches need to come out it two weeks," the doctor said, to Jack. "In the meantime, stay away from the Bowery."

\----------------------

Jack felt his heart sink into his stomach. 

Katherine looked horrified. 

Oh God she knows, was all that Jack could think. 

The shocked silence of the Jacobs was drowned out by a pounding sound in his ears.

They all know, oh God. 

The room grew darker. 

Just let me disappear. Where are my pants?

Mr. Jacobs recovered first. 

"Get of my house!" 

Okay, just let me find my pants. 

A pair of hands gently stilled him. 

"I said out!"

The hands aren't letting me move. There was the featherlight feeling of a blanket being pulled over him, and the fading sound of retreating feet. A door opened a closed with a muffled bang. 

"Sleep Jack."

He drifted not quite able to work out the odd sensation washing over him. For the first time in ages he felt safe.


	6. Chapter 6

"Talk to him, Mayer," Esther had said. 

Mayer Jacobs had never been able to resist a request from his wife. Although in this case he had hesitated. What was there to say to him? Clearly the boy was troubled, but given what his son and Miss Plumber had told him about the refuge, that was understandable.

"You do so well with Davy," she had said, when he expressed his doubts. 

David was an easy child. Talking to him came naturally. Sarah he had a harder time relating to. He had assumed that was because she was a girl, until Les came along. Mayer suspected that by the time Les reached his teens, Esther's faith in his child rearing abilities would be greatly diminished. 

Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed lacing up his boots. He had spent most of the morning sleeping. Something he had apparently not been doing a lot of lately. 

Mayer closed the bedroom door. Jack startled slightly. Mayer frowned. He placed the plate of cold sandwiches Esther had fixed on the nightstand. He pulled up a chair, and sat across from Jack. 

"I'm not hungry," Jack said. 

Mayer studied the boy for a minute, and then said, "if you need something easier to digest, I think I can warm up some soup."

"No," Jack said. The boy glanced at him, then looked at the ground. Mayer waited, knowing that Jack couldn't avoid his gaze forever. He made eye contact and then looked away again. 

"I'm not you know," Jack muttered. "I mean I don't do that."

"Don't do what?" Mayer asked, gently. 

"Work the Bowery," Jack said. 

"I know," Mayer said. The doctor's implication that Jack was a prostitute, had ignited a rage in Mayer that he hadn't felt in years. 

"Even if you did," Mayer started to say. 

"I don't," snapped Jack,"I. . ."

"He should never have spoken to you that way," Mayer finished. 

Jack's cheeks colored, and he looked away. 

"That girl of yours wants you to see another doctor. . ." Mayer said. 

"What? No way!" Jack said. 

Mayer sighed. He felt that it should be Jack's choice who treated him, but when his own devices, it was clear that the boy wouldn't seek help at all. If the wound became infected again, Mayer doubted that Jack would take himself to a doctor. 

"You'll need to have your stitches removed," Mayer said. 

"No, that's alright. I know someone who can. . ." Jack said, confirming Mayer's fears. 

Then there was the boy's mental state. After the doctor had gone, Katherine had told them about Jack's mood swings and sleepless nights. David had returned a few minutes later and added his own insights: Jack had been picking fights, he flinched at the slightest contact, and had become clingy towards some friend at the lodging house. Mayer knew from experience that mental wounds could fester too. Unless things changed quickly, the boy was likely was likely to wind up in jail or the mental ward. 

"You see Kloppman does stitches all the time, and I'm sure that he can show me how to. . ."Jack said

"Alright," Mayer said, "I think maybe we can skip the doctor, on one condition: You are completely honest with me, starting right now."

The look on Jack's face was hard to read: confusion mixed with a denial; he opened his mouth probably to say that he had never lied. Mayer cut him off. 

"Anything you say will stay between us," Mayer said, "but I cannot let you leave unless I know that you will be safe. I need to know who hurt you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some history: The Bowery is a neighborhood in Manhattan. In the 1890s it was know for having a lot of gay bars and male prostitutes. Some of the newsboys would engage in prostitution, and they could be picked up by the police for loitering in the Bowery and other places of ill repute.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack tells Mayer the details of what happened that night at the Refuge.

Mayer Jacobs was waiting for an answer. 

Jack felt a familiar tight feeling in the back of his throat. Run, part of his mind said. There's nowhere to run to, said another part. While this internal debate raged, he heard him self speaking. 

"It was Snyder," he choked out.

"The warden of that place?" Mayer asked. 

Jack nodded.

"Tell me what he did," Mayer said. 

At that gentle command, Jack found himself telling Davy's father everything. 

How Snyder had taken him to one of the solitary cells in the basement of the Refuge. 

"I back talked him all the way down there. I shouldn't have done that."

How Snyder had made him bend over a small table and had pulled down his pants. 

"Like it was going to be a normal whipping."

How the blows from Snyder's crop had been harder than usual, breaking the skin. 

What happened when the blows stopped: the weird feeling of a finger on his butthole, Jack's confusion about what Snyder was doing, the disorienting slap across the face when Jack tried to resist. 

"He tied my wrists. That must have been when it happened, but I don't remember him doing it. He tied me to the table so I couldn't get away. . ."

There were a few more lashes from the crop, thrown in for good measure. Then Snyder's fingers returned, and his other hand started groping him.

"It weren't those times before, when he checked me for weapon or inspected me for lice. He. . I. . . liked it."

Jack looked away from Mr. Jacobs. He felt completely exposed. Mr. Jacobs knew what he was. He'd tell Davy to stay way from him, and Davy would tell Katherine and she'd dump him. But at least it would be over. He was tired of waiting for the inevitable. 

Kloppman will kick you out, a familiar voice in his head said. We can't risk exposing the other boys to you. Face it Sullivan, I know what you are. I can sense these things . That's why I did chose you.

"Jack," Mr. Jacobs's voice seemed very far away, and it took a few moments for it to penetrate Jack's train of thought. "Jack?" He sounded worried. Jack finally looked at him.

"Jack," Mr. Jacobs said, "when you say you liked it. . ." His brow furrowed as though he were searching for his next words. "You mean your body responded to his touch?" Mr. Jacobs made it sound so involuntary. 

Jack nodded. Mr. Jacobs looked as though he wanted to speak, but instead waited for Jack to continue. 

He told him how Snyder's probing finger had struck something deep inside him that had set him off. 

So, Cowboy's got a hair trigger, Snyder said. Jack could hear the smirk in his voice. He shuddered. 

"Jack," Mr. Jacobs's voice called him back to the present. "He's locked up. He can't hurt you anymore."

Objectively Jack knew that, but it felt like Snyder was there listening as he spoke. Snyder had broken him, worked his way into his brain, and was a part of him now. 

Go ahead tell, him what I did next.

"Just breathe for a minute," Mr. Jacobs said. "That's it. In. Out."

Jack had not realized that he was trembling. His heart was pounding. 

"Listen me for a minute," Mr. Jacobs said. "What that man did to you was not your fault. Arousal and ejaculation are natural responses to physical stimulation."

We both know that's not true don't we, Sullivan?

"I know it's confusing," Mr. Jacobs said, "because that kind of touch is supposed to feel good, but he was doing it to hurt and humiliate you."

It worked too, the Snyder voice said. You were so nice and humble when you asked Pulitzer for that ticket to Santa Fe the next morning.

"Now," Mr. Jacobs said, "I know this is difficult, but I need you to tell me if did anything else."

What had come so easily a moment ago died in Jack's throat. Everything about that night came flooding back. Snyder's hands working him inside and out, bringing back his erection, stopping him before he embarrassed himself again, the fingers moving inside him slowly stretching him, making him slick with something. What was Snyder doing? The hands stopped. A piece of cloth was pushed into his mouth, gagging him. Then there was the sudden pain of something large and unyielding at his entrance. 

Jack started to cry, choking on tears. He shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to say anything.

"I sorry," Mr. Jacobs. "I shouldn't have pressed. We can talk about it another time. Just rest."

That's right, Snyder said, it'll be our little secret. You don't tell what I did, and I won't tell how much you liked it. You'll be mine forever just like I promised.

"No," Jack said, catching Mr. Jacobs by the sleeve. "He took the handle of his crop and he push it. . .he putt it in. . .he used it to. . . Sex."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard chapter to write. I upped the rating just to be safe. Mayer may be pushing Jack a little too hard to talk, but keep in mind he has some good reasons, and this is 1899 he can't just Google how to deal with a rape victim.


	8. Chapter 8

Katherine muttered a silent prayer as she reached Jacobs's door, hoping that David would answer when she knocked. Crutchie had not been at the lodging house when Les and Davy had gone looking for him the night before, nor was he there when Katherine and Davy had gone back in the morning. Davy and the other newsies were going to search the city for him. 

Much to Katherine's disappointment, Mrs. Jacobs answered the door instead. She was holding a large basket of laundry. 

"Katherine," She said, "I was wanting to talk to you."

"Is Davy here?" Katherine asked. "I just needed to ask him something." 

"No," Mrs. Jacobs said. "Walk with me." She began climbing the stairs to the roof with the basket. 

"It's just that," Katherine started, trying to choose her words carefully, "something strange is going on at the lodging house, and Davy was going to. . . look into it for me." 

She didn't want to tell Jack that something was wrong, especially when he wasn't feeling well. Really she didn't know that something was wrong. All she knew, was where Crutchie hadn't been last night. Her instincts were telling her something had happened, and she shouldn't keep this from Jack. If something bad had happened, it would be worse to wait, but if Crutchie had just spent the night somewhere else. . . No, she'd wait until Davy came back to tell Jack. 

"My first husband," Mrs. Jacobs said, interrupting her train of thought. "Was no good." She set the basket down on table.

"You were married before?" Katherine asked. 

"I was younger than David and Sarah are now," she said pulling a wet shirt out of the basket and hanging it on a clothesline. 

David's sixteen, thought Katherine. Who lets a child get married? Most of her friends from her school days couldn't wait to tie the knot. Thank goodness their parents had the good sense to make them wait. 

"Everyone in our village said it was a good match," Mrs. Jacobs said. "He was well off. He came from good family, they said." There was a little venom in her tone. She jammed a close pin onto a pair of pants, securing them to the line. 

"The things he did to me," Mrs. Jacobs said, shaking her head. "The worst thing was, I couldn't even talk to anyone about it. After about a week, I tried runaway. I went home to my parents, and they sent me right back to him."

Katherine was horrified. She and her father had had their differences, but he would never allow any his to children to be abused in that way. 

"It wasn't until after I married Mayer that I told anyone," Mrs. Jacobs said. She pulled a sheet from the basket, and began fastening it to the clothesline. 

"I didn't tell Mayer at first," Mrs. Jacobs continued, "but he knew something was wrong almost immediately. Mayer was always so loving and gentle with me, but when we tried to make love, it would be like I was with Him again, and I would panic."

"What," Katherine started, "what got you to open up?"

"Mayer," Mrs. Jacobs said. "He is a good listener. It didn't fix everything, but things got better."

"But how did things get better?" Katherine asked.

"The most important thing is patience, I suppose," Mrs. Jacobs said. "He waited until I was ready. We also have a rule: I have to tell him if he does something that I don't like."

"I've been trying to get Jack to talk to me, but he won't," Katherine said. 

"Give him time," Mrs. Jacobs said. She paused to hang another sheet and then said, "I thought it might be easier for him to talk to another man about these things. I know I wished my mother would have talked to me. So I sent Mayer to speak with him." 

A cool breeze caught the sheets pulling on them. Mrs. Jacobs for a moment. She looked slightly worried, but the sheets stayed secured to the clothesline. 

"Let's go inside," she said lifting her basket. "I hope it doesn't storm."


	9. Chapter 9

It occurred to Mayer that for all Jack's world weariness, he was only seventeen, and therefore relatively inexperienced when it came to sex. Snyder had used that inexperience against him: taking his time, using a gentle touch. Mayer forced himself to remain calm, as Jack described Snyder manipulating him to ejaculate a second time. 

"After that," Jack said, "he untied me and cleaned me up with a washrag. I started to get hard again. He pulled my pants up and led me to the bed, and that was it."

Jack was looking at the floor again. 

"Jack," Mayer said, trying to keep his tone as gentle as possible, "I need to ask you something. It's very important, so I need you to think before you answer: at any point did he touch you with his penis?"

Jack shook his head. 

"Did he make you touch him?" Mayer asked. 

Another head shake, while looking at the ground. Mayer gently lifted the boy's head, so that he could see the boy's face. There still tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. 

"No he didn't use his penis," Jack said. 

Mayer relaxed slightly. The doctor, horrible as he had been, had been thorough in his examination. He had found no serious damage, aside from the infected cut. Mayer had been worried that Jack would suffer in silence if Snyder had given him the clap, or something worse, but without direct sexual contact that was unlikely. 

"I think," Jack said breaking the silence that had fallen on the room, "I think he busted me up inside, somehow."

"What do you mean?" Mayer asked. Maybe the doctor had missed something. 

"When he was. . ." Jack said, "That thing with the whip handle. . ."

"The word for what he did is sodomy," Mayer said gently. 

"That's when two guys. . .um. . .um," Jack said. 

"It's the same word for both," Mayer said. 

"While he was. . ." Jack said. "While he was sodomizing me, he hit something inside me, and it made me want to. . . You know. . . really bad." 

Mayer hesitated, but then said, "I'm no expert, but I know many men engage in that particular activity voluntarily. I don't imagine that they'd keep doing it if it didn't feel good. Your body responded to being touched. That's all."

Jack shook his head. "No he done something to me, because I ain't been able to . . . you know. . .since."

 

"Jack," Mr. Jacobs said slowly, "it's been two months." 

Two long, agonizing months. Closer to three.

"I know. That means something's definitely wrong with me right?" Jack said. 

Mr. Jacobs ran a hand across his face. 

"Everything worked fine before," Jack said. 

"So you've been with a girl before?" Mr. Jacobs asked. There was a slight note of disapproval in his voice. 

"Sort of," Jack said. He felt a blush creep over his cheeks at the memory. "I mean, I know there's no Jack Jr.'s running around, but I done plenty of other things with girls." 

"Do you," Mr. Jacobs started hesitantly, "do you still want to do those things?"

Jack shrugged.

The honest answer was, no. He had not even realized he had this problem, until that night when Katherine had suggestively run her hand up his thigh. Initially he had been alarmed by the unexpected contact, but later that night on the lodging house roof a whole new fear had set in: he had not responded at all. 

Before he would have been rock hard if a girl gotten that close to him. Since that night, he been trying to get off anytime he could a few minutes of privacy. He swore he could hear Snyder laugh at him every time he tried and failed. 

"It doesn't matter if I want to," Jack said. "I can't anyway." 

"I think it matters a lot," Mr. Jacobs said. 

Jack knew it was dumb, but it had been bothering him since the first time Snyder had touched him, and now that he had someone to ask the question flew out of his mouth before he could stop it: "Do you think Snyder f. . .sodomizing me turned me queer, so that I can only be with other guys?"

"The word is homosexual," Mr. Jacobs corrected gently, "and I'm pretty sure it doesn't work that way."

"But," the comment died on Jack's tongue. 

"Do you want to be with another man?" Mr. Jacobs asked. 

"No," Jack said. It was the truth, but it wasn't the whole truth. "I don't want to be with anyone."

"That may change," Mr. Jacobs said. "You need to give yourself time."

"How much time?" Jack asked. 

"As long as you need," Mr. Jacobs said. "The more pressure you put on yourself the more difficult it's going to be to get over."

"But Katherine wants. . ." Jack blurted out. 

"Ah so that's what this is about," Mr. Jacobs said. 

He hadn't meant to bring up Katherine. He was still in love with her, but he couldn't give her what she wanted. He felt his heart break a little every time he thought about it.

"I should end it with her," Jack said. 

"Is that what you really want?" Mr. Jacobs asked. 

"No, of course not, but. . ." Jack said. 

"Then I think you need to have a long talk with her before you make any rash decisions," Mr. Jacobs said. He offered Jack a sandwich again. This time he took it.


	10. Chapter 10

A light rain was falling, and Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs were in the kitchen. Katherine and Jack sat across the table from each other. They were holding hands, but not saying much. 

The conversation had gone better than Jack had expected. They both kept apologizing for stuff, but by the end of it they were still together. That made Jack feel a little better about the future. Katherine promised that she loved him, and would wait until he was ready even if meant waiting forever. Jack doubted anyone could be that patient, but it was enough for now.

Katherine's eyes kept darting to the door. Something else was definitely bothering her. 

Where the hell is Davy? Katherine thought to herself. What could be keeping him?

"What's wrong?" Jack asked. 

It was time to tell him what she knew, Katherine decided. Waiting any longer would only make things worse. 

"Jack," Katherine said. "We can't find . . ."

At that moment the door to the apartment flew open, revealing a soaked David Jacobs. 

He was ghost pale. His eyes had a shocked look to them, that matched the grim expression on his face. 

"S. .Something terrible has happened," he said. In his right hand he held a very familiar crutch. 

 

The End

To be continued. . .


End file.
